


home is where you are

by f0reisa



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Back Together, Jeonghan is an angel, M/M, Xu Ming Hao | The8-centric, food magazine au, gyuhao is the main relationship but really it's about their growth esp minghao, junhan as textbook supportive gay parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:26:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28963128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f0reisa/pseuds/f0reisa
Summary: It wasn't the ending Minghao wanted; but it was probably the ending he deserved.Alternatively, the one where Minghao tries to nurse his broken heart and face his abandonment issues with the help of his metaphoric gay parents.
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	home is where you are

It wasn't the ending Minghao wanted; but it was probably the ending he deserved.

—

It's dark as Minghao opens his eyes way before the alarm, groggily wiping his tear-crusted eyes to glance at his phone. Realizing that it's been exactly two months since the break up does nothing more than remind Minghao how time passes even when he's huddled under his covers painfully crying every stifling night away.

He drags himself out of bed and across the tiny studio apartment, eyeing the single box desolately dumped on his makeshift table laying untouched. He'd cleared what used to be their apartment of his few belongings and trashed what he couldn't carry into Junhui's car. Mingyu had always been the neat one but Minghao had been the one with few possessions.

(Mingyu had stared curiously and in surprise when they moved in with numerous containers of belongings alongside Minghao's single luggage and a box of art materials. Minghao had flippantly called himself minimalist.

He hadn't known how else to describe his nagging need to keep his belongings few, having been kicked out from place to place till his late teens. Having been thrown from foster home to foster home till he could finally scrap enough cash for school and dorms just in time to be of age and ditched by the social service system. Mingyu didn't have to know about that part of his history.)

Minghao couldn't bring himself to unpack that sole box which sat innocuously collecting dust. It held their polaroid photos—the two had an affinity with photography—and the little trinkets Mingyu had gifted him over their three years together. Going near it makes Minghao want to spill his guts. He elects to ignore it, putting in the effort to look less unkempt for work instead.

Distracting himself with work would be a lot easier if it didn't mean dealing with his new colleague who'd taken a liking to constantly engage him in fruitless conversations every few minutes. Jeonghan had joined Minghao in the editorial team as a junior writer for their food-centred web magazine three weeks ago and the budding writer had been enthusiastically attempting to socialize with Minghao despite repeated failures. 

The newcomer had called Minghao interestingly aloof in an exaggeratedly crappy attempt at stage whispering, when their videographer gave the two a suspicious look after Jeonghan's fifth failed attempt at getting the other boy to have lunch with him. Minghao would argue that he wasn't being cold, he was just heartbroken. 

It didn't matter much to him though, so he had chosen to keep his eyes trained on his computer screen, trying to conjure something on some inventive cereal and cheese bagel. His appetite had been close to zero and the resultant wonky taste buds weren't accurate enough for his articles. It wasn't like he could just describe it as 'extra disgusting because I'm nursing a broken heart and nothing tastes okay'.

Minghao stepped cautiously into the office twenty minutes early and as if on cue, Jeonghan's head pops up from behind the sink and the boy beckons him to the test kitchen with a coy smile. Minghao sighs and heads there, plopping his bag down on the way. Part of him is done with Jeonghan but part of him welcomes a different distraction. Yet Mingyu still occupies the other 95% of his brain space and he still prefers to be left to mourn alone.

"Try this," Jeonghan quips, holding up a fry coated with a thick layer of red powder.

Minghao shoots him a contemplative look with narrow eyes.

"Chill, it's for the recipe shoot later on," the shorter male drawls, pushing the fry nearer to Minghao's face.

He flinches before sighing again and grabbing the fry, eating it whole without thought.

"How's it?" Jeonghan presses, leaning into Minghao's space.

"Piquant and salty. Can I go now?" the Chinese boy recites. Making up basic descriptions of food without thought was basically second nature.

"Aww! And here I thought making some Chinese-inspired dishes for this week's shoot would make you less mopey," the new writer exclaims with a mock pained expression, even clutching his heart for theatrics.

Minghao quickly grabs a second fry from Jeonghan's plate, biting into it slower this time. It's not like he isn't appreciative of Jeonghan's thought. But his heart sinks when he's reminded of the many times Mingyu tried to cook popular Chinese dishes, thinking it would remind Minghao of home. 

(Except Minghao never tried to clarify how he never really had a home back in China before he came to New York to study on a scholarship before trying to make a whole new life here. He supposed Mingyu didn't need to be burdened with that information on the past he'd tried to erase. He wasn't wrong though, from then on, ma la xiang guo did begin to remind him of home. His home that was Mingyu.)

"Sorry I missed it. It's ma la-flavoured fries," Minghao muses, face stoic despite the sinking feeling in his chest.

"Ooh so? Does it taste authentic?" Jeonghan pipes up.

"It's pretty tasty but I don't know, to be honest. I don't quite remember what I ate growing up." Minghao deliberately leaves out the fact that he does, however, remember how he struggled to be the best child possible to sets of abusive foster parents, praying he wouldn't get sent somewhere else the next day. If it was this casual hinting to a new coworker how he didn't have the best memories in his adolescent years, why had it been so tough being honest with someone he loved and wanted to give his whole life to?

That's why he left, Minghao. Because you clearly have issues you don't want to be honest about.

"Oof, and here I thought I could help nurse your broken heart!" Jeonghan exclaims with a dramatic chortle.

Minghao's about to interject and demand to know what Jeonghan was talking about before the latter strolls to the newly arrived Wonwoo with his plate of fries.

—

It takes another two days of constant bugging and annoyed rejections before Minghao finally agrees to go for lunch with Jeonghan. And that's when Minghao learns that Jeonghan's actually the new unnamed boyfriend that his friend Junhui, from way back in university, had been hiding—which explained the persistence in getting all chummy with him. He remembers Junhui vaguely mentioning seeing someone back when things were getting awry with Mingyu. He guesses that the other Chinese boy had been discreet about celebrating his own new relationship while Minghao was hurting over his own. 

Deep inside Minghao knows that the two had probably hoped to distract and cheer him up with their antics and he's grateful, really, but it doesn't let him hurt less.

While he's mildly grated by Junhui's nosiness, he's extra thankful his friend likely didn't spill the long story behind the break-up, which would inevitably involve his childhood which Minghao wasn't quite ready to share. Jeonghan could probably guess though. He was perceptive enough to see that Minghao clearly had issues he didn't want to address.

As quick an hour goes, Minghao doesn't quite warm up to Jeonghan by heaps, but the latter didn't seem like bad company. Minghao even considers calling him a friend in time to come.

The next day Jeonghan drags Minghao across town for a tasting at a newly opened Vietnamese-French fusion restaurant. Writers were supposed to attend tastings alone or with a photographer but Jeonghan is as much persuasive as Minghao is experienced with handling a camera and no one even bats an eyelid as he is shooed out of the office.

Wonwoo gives him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the back.

"Opened the flood gates huh."

Minghao manages a resigned and constipated smile before being ushered out by Jeonghan, camera in tow.

—

If this was the ending Minghao deserved, was this also the ending Mingyu deserved?

—

Where Jeonghan's nice, he is equal parts insistent. Two weeks later, Minghao rolls out of bed on a weekend after an afternoon of staring at the ceiling with watery eyes. He's awoken much too early again and starts to regret agreeing to attend Jeonghan's party. Well, not really his party, but Minghao had begrudgingly agreed to attend a party with the persistent male. 

Jeonghan had called it a good opportunity to socialize since the party was coincidentally organized by someone big in the food industry. He promised it'd be fun and that Jun would even come along later which made Minghao raise his eyebrows—what would a lawyer do socializing with people of the food industry? Then again, Jeonghan had also promised he heard rumors of David Chang attending the party, which Minghao definitely found hard to believe.

The exasperated Chinese male gave in after a week of never-ending reminders and pleas.

He rolls his eyes when Jeonghan cheers, "Yay! I already RSVP-ed for us when Seungcheol invited me and a plus one!"

A plus two is quite different from a plus one but Minghao figures it won't be a big deal if they were talking about Jeonghan.

So Minghao finds himself dressed at least decently and seated by his excuse of a table, which was really just a tiny bedside drawer the previous tenant had left behind, with a hot mug of coffee, ten minutes before Jeonghan said he'd pick him up, eyes burning holes in the box on the table.

(Mingyu would have been upset with his choice of beverage. Minghao had a weak stomach and even on cold nights where they used to burn the midnight oil together in university, the tall giant would chastise him whenever he attempted to steal a sip of coffee. This meant delicious, hot bowls of congee to warm him up and provide him sustenance instead of caffeine. Minghao as a food writer went on to jokingly lament how it was a waste such a talented chef had gone on to be a model instead, though it was expected with Mingyu's extraordinarily good looks and beautiful toothy smile.

But then again, there was no Mingyu to remind Minghao to take care of his health anymore. Minghao mulls over that thought bitterly while sipping his equally bitter drink.)

Painful nostalgia washes over him as he remembers that and he finds his hands lifting the lid of the box before he can stop himself. His body yearns for some semblance of Mingyu and he feels the sore ache of loss nipping at his heart as he stares at the two happy faces dotted with snowflakes pressed together, a blanket of snow in the backdrop. His own smiling face stares back at him in mockery. He tries to look at Mingyu's cheery face, and he's reminded of the completely wrecked and tear-stained version of the same guy less than three months ago.

("Hao, I can't fix what I didn't break."

"I never said I wanted to fix anything.")

He feels the familiar sour burning in his sinuses before his phone blares, Jeonghan's contact name flashing on his screen, announcing the boy's arrival downstairs.

Minghao's jolted out of his miserable fit and he drops the lid on the floor, frantically grabbing his wallet and bolting out of the house, Jeonghan's bright voice ringing in his ears as he swipes to answer the call.

"Good evening sunshine," Jeonghan drawls, raising an eyebrow when he takes in Minghao's slightly flushed nose and reddish eyes.

If he notices the watery eyes, he doesn't mention it. After all, Minghao's arrived at work daily after nights of quiet tears. If anything, his reddish eyes should be quite the consistent look.

Minghao can't quite put himself in the mood for socializing—hasn't been able to the past few months—so he's thankful when Jeonghan starts rambling about this law themed drama has come out on Netflix and how Jun wouldn't stop dissing its inaccuracy though he still stuck it out watching it with him. 

On the contrary, Minghao's head isn't that far up his ass so he doesn't actually feel bitter hearing about his friends' lovey-dovey moments, instead he feels somewhat relieved to have something distracting him from his depressing episode just five minutes ago. He's also thankful that the couple—particularly Jun—had stopped being overly cautious around him and he was glad to not be treated like a wounded animal, though Jun would probably call him one. Minghao's pretty sure he owed credit to Jeonghan.

—

They arrive at the party at Seungcheol's lavish mansion, already brimming with well-dressed people, some huddled together over glasses of champagne. 

(The place is dimly lit and Minghao's reminded of those university frat parties Mingyu used to drag him to when they were just friends. Minghao, who happened to be in the process of picking up American slang, had called him a fuckboy when they finally got together, despite Mingyu rushing to argue that alcohol gave him the courage to be around him without panicking.)

Minghao smiles bitterly at the thought and he decides he's much too vulnerable to stay alone or even socialize, fidgeting in his shoes. Jeonghan, ever the sharp one, picks up on this, casually slipping his arms under and round Minghao's in assurance of his promise to stick with him. The excited male drags him across the hallway to say a quick hi to Seungcheol, a successful conglomerate with dealings in multiple industries. Minghao notes Seungcheol to be an affable and objectively handsome guy. 

He feels guilty for ruining Jeonghan's shot at socializing with his industry peers or even just the many hotshots but the other male simply ushers him to the pastry table, arms still linked, gazing hungrily at the pretty display of French pastries. 

"Oh my god Haohao! They have cheese tarts!" Jeonghan exclaims, tugging Minghao inches lower. The shorter boy had picked up that nickname from his boyfriend, much to Minghao disgust and Jun's amusement.

Minghao is vaguely aware of the fuss Jeonghan is making and he senses a someone by the pastry table turn as he keeps his head lowered in slight embarrassment.

"Those are Parisian flans dummy, they're custard based!" Minghao mutters quickly hoping people around wouldn't see them as actual idiots.

"What gives! Not like we ever get anything this bougie! Open up baby," Jeonghan pipes up with a mouth full of pastry, shoving a mini éclair into Minghao's mouth to shut him up.

Minghao snorts and chews on his éclair thoughtfully, smiling fondly at Jeonghan and glad that Jun actually found a more-than-decent guy after his slew of one night stands and half-hearted dates over the past few years.

That thought reminds Minghao that he doesn't actually know how the couple met and he's about to ask one half of them just that when he hears an oddly familiar voice from across the pastry table.

"Hao?"

He freezes. He knows that voice. Knows that voice which goes octaves deeper when angry, cracks when hurt, light and chirpy when happy. Knows it all too well. He swallows nervously, the indulgent treat now leaving a sour taste in his mouth as he forces it down his gullet.

He feels Jeonghan's grip around his arm tighten protectively. He'd laugh, remembering how Jun had jokingly called Jeonghan and himself Minghao's parents just a week ago, if he weren't rooted in spot, blood having run cold. He's not sure what he's afraid of. But all he knows is that he isn't ready to meet the cause of his mental breakdown just thirty minutes ago. Scratch that. The cause of his daily depressive episodes for the past many weeks.

"Minghao is that you?" he hears Mingyu's voice resound in his ears again. This time it isn't so much a question and Minghao pretends he can't tell that it's laced with hurt.

"And who might this be, Haohao?"

Minghao is suddenly reminded of Jeonghan's presence and promptly snaps out of his reverie and his free hand reaches instinctively reaches up to hold onto the boy's arm for support, face turned towards him instead of Mingyu. 

Jeonghan studies Minghao's face, expression unreadable, and something visibly clicks in his head and he turns to Mingyu with his lips upturned a tad tightly.

"You must be the one and only Mingyu," Jeonghan croons, much to Minghao's disbelief.

"Yes and who might you be?" he hears Mingyu reply, tone growing provocative.

"Name's Jeonghan, Minghao's coworker, nice to meet you." Jeonghan snips back, tonally calm but Minghao knows better. Despite not knowing the full picture, Jeonghan clearly doesn't have the best impression of the guy that'd left his friend in such a depressive state for months and the challenge in his voice was stark as day.

Minghao's struggling not to hyperventilate and Mingyu's cold voice forces the delicate memories he'd tried to suppress.

("You know everything about me but I hardly know what you're thinking. Hell I don't even know what your issues are!"

"It's like I'm chasing someone who doesn't care if I'll be there when he makes the next turn.")

There had been so much Minghao wanted to tell him but could never put into words. Could never formulate the right words even after the past few weeks of mourning, of moping, of crying alone.

"Coworker? I've never heard your name before," Mingyu speaks up again, this time demandingly and clearly pissed.

"Well time passes and life happens babe. I'm now Minghao's coworker and we have places to be, enjoy yourself," Jeonghan hurries with a note of finality, tugging Minghao's arm gently. As much as Jeonghan would push him to speak to Mingyu on any given situation, especially if he'd known the full story, the same man is also the most protective friend who probably didn’t want to put Minghao in an uncomfortable situation he wasn't ready for.

Minghao thinks of the missed chances, the words unsaid, and before he can regret, he ventures a look up at Mingyu. Attractive as ever, save for blatantly thick concealer under his eyebags, Mingyu stands in his glory, about to speak with an annoyed expression, he stops himself, upset face softening to a steely one as Minghao dares himself to make eye contact.

He hears his own voice, small in a whisper, "Jeonghan, can you leave us for just five minutes please?"

Jeonghan fails to conceal his surprise but he manages a nod, whispering in Minghao's ear and telling him he'd be back in exactly five minutes to get him. Sassy as ever, he leaves with a curt nod towards Mingyu and a pointed peck on the side of Minghao's forehead, mentally signalling him that he'd be down to be the fake new boyfriend to get him out of any situation if necessary.

"You look happy." He hears and flinches. Never the optimistic type, Minghao hadn't imagined meeting Mingyu again. But if he did, this was definitely not on the list of scenarios he would've expected or been prepared for. He'd blamed himself the past few weeks, wallowed in misery and guilt, hated himself for everything. But as the words left Mingyu's mouth, Minghao couldn't help the indignance bubbling in his chest. Happy? Happy was a far cry from how he felt.

"Happy? What fucking part of me looks happy?" he snaps before he realizes what he'd said. Mingyu looks shocked and Minghao guesses his expression upon processing his own words mirrors just as such.

That'd always been his issue hadn't it. Talking about himself, talking about emotions. Jun had labelled him emotionally underdeveloped in his slurry voice, one night when they were drunk. Jeonghan had called him the aloof one. Now snapping back at Mingyu in a culmination of all the tumultuous breakdowns, he almost feels like one of the main characters of those Netflix shows Jun and Jeonghan love, having actually gone through a tad of growth.

That moment of growth is quickly shut down when he realizes he doesn't quite know how to continue.

Mingyu looks hesitant, "Well you sure had fun laughing and smiling with that guy. But with how quick you were to agree to our break-up and your five things in our—no my apartment. I'd say you had an easy time moving on huh," he finishes with a spiteful tone.

There was too much to unpack. Too much to start over and explain. Too many feelings stashed away in his cramped underdeveloped emotive state to explain. He'd never been able to speak candidly with Mingyu. Admittedly he took and took from Mingyu, tried to give more to Mingyu, just not in the way Mingyu wanted. Mingyu always wanted clarity, honesty, and trust. Yet Minghao couldn't even be honest with what he wanted to begin with.

All he knows now, is that he wants Mingyu back. Wasn't that the reason he'd cried desolately each night? Minghao knows what he wants now. Wants Mingyu, wants another chance to bare his soul to Mingyu. He's finally honest with himself yet he finds Mingyu so far now. The table of pastries between the two of them stretching infinitely in Minghao's eyes.

Mingyu's waiting for his response, eyes impatient and lips pursed tightly.

Minghao's about to clam up when he feels a warm body envelop him in a quick hug.

"Haohao! Where's Hannie? He said he was gonna be with you at the pastries cuz you were a depressed bun in the car haha!" Jun rattles burying his head in the crook of Minghao's neck and it takes a second of awkward silence and Mingyu breaking his stare with a sheepish rub of his neck for him to realize the situation he'd stepped into.

"Yikes. Oh my god, hi Mingyu. Right… I'll be off looking for Jeonghan if that's okay?" Junhui falters, ever so eloquent as the attorney he is, turning to Minghao with for confirmation. Minghao nods and Jun takes it as his cue to slip away, leaving with one last awkward smile at Mingyu and a reassuring pat on his best friend's back.

The moment was lost. Quite frankly. Yet Mingyu doesn't move away despite the broken tension. And he manages a somewhat sheepish, earnest glance at Minghao.

A pregnant silence follows and five awkward seconds later Mingyu mumbles a half-hearted pleasantry for him to enjoy his evening, turning to leave. He probably found it pointless to expect anything honest and sincere from Minghao anymore.

Tears well up in Minghao's eyes as Mingyu's back recedes in the background. He can't do this again. Can't let someone he truly wants leave again. He feels his legs move, sprinting around the table and before he fully plans what to do, his hands find Mingyu's. Belatedly, he fears he'd overstepped his boundaries. Mingyu assumed he'd found someone new. Who wasn't to say someone as attractive as he hadn't moved on either. He expects Mingyu to flinch or shrug his hand away but that doesn't come and he's met with watery, confused eyes, searching his own for something. 

Minghao recognizes that expression all too well. Mingyu looked at him that way frequently in their last few months, when he said 'I love you' and Minghao couldn't quite say it back himself, couldn't quite explain how he wanted to always be with Mingyu though he was dead afraid he'd be abandoned again. Couldn't quite explain his fear of attachment. Couldn't quite tell Mingyu he loved him because that meant baring his soul, broken and tattered, to the one person he wanted most.

"Stay please," he manages out almost inaudibly.

"Why?" Mingyu whispers in reply with glassy eyes.

"Because I want it. I want you to stay. With me," Minghao says more definitely this time, in spite of his shaky voice.

—

They find themselves in Mingyu's car after a thumbs up from Jun who happened to be clutching a worried and pissed-looking Jeonghan far too tightly, the two not-so-discreetly watching Minghao from behind.

Mingyu's expression has softened a fair bit from their chilly exchange across the pastry table earlier, yet a long pause follows the thud of the car doors. Minghao doesn't quite know where to start, only feels an overwhelming mixture of relief, fear, and cautiousness creep into his chest as he avoids looking at Mingyu at all.

He feels a warm, calloused hand on his, far too intimate and familiar and the next thing he knows, he's burst into painful tears, uninhibited and uncontrolled. He missed this so much, wants to tell any higher power up there how much he wanted Mingyu. He had lost so much growing up and he wanted to tell them to just leave Mingyu with him. He couldn't fill that empty void Mingyu had left. He'd let Mingyu imprint his indelible presence on his soul, far too deeply for Minghao to lose him again.

He feels warm arms encircling him the way he memorized and remembered and he sobs harder, attempting to tell Mingyu to stay with slurred words between loud sobs and hiccups, tears dampening his ex-boyfriend's silk dress shirt. Minghao looks at the growingly darkened spot on the dress shirt and apologizes unintelligibly for wetting his shirt before bawling even harder realizing it was the dress shirt they had picked out together for Mingyu's first-ever model after party. 

"We… Picked out... This… This shirt together," he slurs embarrassingly between his cries and Mingyu seems to find this hilarious, letting out a loud, dry laugh despite the streaks of tears from his reddened eyes.

"Yes we did Hao. We picked this shirt together."

Minghao's cries escalate as he hears the pet name. Haohao who? He only wanted to be Mingyu's 'Hao', wanted to wake up to that warm voice every morning, wanted to hear him call his name lovingly.

They sit wordlessly for the next ten minutes and when Minghao's finally calmed down from fit of tears he squeaks in a tiny voice, "I'm sorry."

He hasn't quite planned what to say and the emotional high he'd just been put through wasn't quite helping but he ventures forth anyway. Mingyu had waited patiently for so long. It was now or never.

"I don't know how to put this but… I have issues. They go a long way back and I never wanted to burden you with them. When you were confused and hurt, I couldn't bring myself to explain my feelings. I let you end things because I thought it would come anyway. That you'd leave again, even if I managed to make you stay that one time," Minghao tries. He knows that it isn't much of an explanation, or even remotely close to what Mingyu deserved to know, but he mentally pats himself on the back for at least trying. That's an okay start isn't it.

From beside him, Mingyu sighs, hand still wrapped tightly around his, "I'm sorry. I should've been more patient. I just thought if, after all this time, I couldn't make you open up to me, maybe you didn't actually trust me. When you willingly packed up and left, I wanted to beg you to stay, to go back on the stupid proud words I said, but I refused to chase you out of spite. Honestly, I hoped you'd maybe run back to me but you never did and I'm sorry you flipped when I saw you laughing with someone new."

"I'm sorry because you deserve to be happy, even if it's not with me. And I'm sorry for making you feel like you should feel guilty for not moping over our break-up. I mean it. I selfishly want you back but I feel like I'd always dragged you around when we were together. That's why I wasn't sure you wanted me, or if you were too nice to reject me. We aren't together now and I wish you'd feel what you want to feel. Be happy as you rightfully deserve to be," Mingyu added, his grip on Minghao's hand loosening.

Minghao couldn't help the tears trickling down. Mingyu was giving him a choice, to let go of his hand again or to hold on to it. Even when they weren't together anymore, Mingyu still remained the bigger person, respectfully giving in to this grown-ass emotionally stunted man.

"Don't tell me I deserve better or bullshit like I'm the bigger person while you're a grown-ass crybaby. I made foolish assumptions on my own and pressured you instead of caring about your deeper emotions and acknowledging your issues. If there's anyone that's too kind, it's gotta be you," Mingyu leans his head against the steering wheel, opting to look away like a kicked puppy embarrassed with his mistakes.

Minghao giggles softly, gripping Mingyu's hand surely. 

"I love you. I love you, Mingyu," he whispers the words he'd been yelling his head for so long and it's near inaudible and Minghao's heart hammers in his chest as he says it, but Mingyu's head whips back so fast Minghao would've laughed if not for the palpable tension between them or the issues left unaddressed.

"Really?" Mingyu's voice is small and betrays every bit of vulnerability he'd tried to hide behind his confident façade. 

"Yes," Minghao replies, this time more surely, "there's a lot we need to work on, a lot I need to tell you. So if you give me this chance, I promise I'll give it my all to make it work."

It's Mingyu's turn to bawl and Minghao can't help the laughter that rises in his chest this time, they really are two fools. Smiling, he guides Mingyu's burning head to the crook of his neck, stroking his nicely gelled hair soothingly.

"So is that a no?" Minghao teases with a nervous grin.

Mingyu's head shoots up so quickly he almost hits the headboard, "Yes! Yes! As in yes to boyfriend. Yes don't leave me again please," he yells out incomprehensively much to Minghao's relief.

—

That night, Mingyu refuses to let Minghao out of his iron-like grip, hands molded tightly even as they arrive at the shorter male's apartment, and even as he nags at Minghao after seeing the half-finished cup of black coffee haphazardly sitting on the makeshift table, though he softens and starts sobbing after seeing the box of couple items Minghao had kept with him—"You kept this… though you have like… like… three things! I thought… I thought you threw them out!" Minghao clutches onto his hand just as tight, afraid Mingyu would disappear if he let go. Though they'd promised to work things out, that didn't magically mean Minghao's attachment issues were gone. They'd work that out together though, professionally if need be. Minghao was ready for all that.

As Mingyu showers in his bathroom while complaining about the cramped and tiny state of the studio apartment and how the Chinese boy should ditch the lease and move back in with him, Minghao finally takes out his phone which he was vaguely aware hadn't stopped vibrating since he left. 

He sees 17 unread messages from Jeonghan, the latest one reading, "you owe me a table of the finest frnch pastries including the flank from earlier bij n also a detailed account of wht happened,,,,, if he does anythin weird or assholery tho pls tell me + deets he's ded xoxo dad". Jun's sent another load of 13 messages, the last one being "use protection ;) -dad 2". Minghao rolls his eyes and scrolls up to sees another 20 messages from a newly created chat group evidently titled "minghao and dads". He opens the chat to a flurry of messages from his honorary parents who had elected to name themselves Dad 1 and Dad 2 in the chatroom, and Minghao as Son. 

Minghao sends a big red heart to the group chat as he hears the shower stop and Mingyu pad towards the bed to cling onto him once again. He'd definitely be getting them whatever pastries they wanted. Even if he and Mingyu hadn't worked out, Jun and Jeonghan had been nothing short of supportive and protective even when Minghao hadn't been much of a joy to be around. 

He realizes later as Mingyu snuggles in his arms (he's the small spoon mind you) that while he still had a lot of issues to unpack, for himself, and for Mingyu, he thinks about how he may not have had grown up with family, but he had Jeonghan and Jun there for him, and he may not have had a home growing up. But Mingyu, being here with Mingyu, was home. And now, he was finally home.

Minghao doesn't want any endings; he wants to work towards a new beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a night unbeta-ed with tons of school deadlines but really I hope you enjoyed this. i'm not actually american so forgive me if I made any cultural mistakes oof. Also, after re-reading my writing, the lyrics to svt's home really match this like what anyway thanks for reading my first fic appreci8 lots uwu


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